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I had never been kissed.
I ignored even the thought of romance. If, for a second, I thought Akara was hot on the sidelines, I said, who the fuck cares? Swimming is my first and only love. Swimming is all that matters.
Now, it’s not all that matters to me.
I’ve felt their lips against mine. I’ve felt their strong arms around my waist. I’ve felt their hands dripping down my body. I’ve felt their desire and their lust and their love, and I’ve wanted for more—I’ve wanted for them.
I have them.
“Sulli?” Akara can see me drowning in my thoughts.
“What if I was only great four years ago because I loved nothing else but swimming?” I ask in a quiet, raspy voice, a lump swelling in my throat. “What if I’ve split myself into too many pieces and I’ve given this sport the smallest one?”
“I don’t believe that at all.” Akara stares deeply into me. “There are so many athletes who could give up everything and never be where you are. You’re here because you were born to swim. And you, more than anyone, should know you can love more than one thing without severing that love into pieces.”
I let that wash over me, and his words lift me and my spirits.
I am filled with more love than four years ago. That should propel me further, not hold me back.
“Thanks, Kits.” I’m about to put the rim of the protein drink to my mouth. But Akara stretches closer—and he kisses me.
I smile against his kissable lips.
He deepens the kiss with sensual sweetness that hums throughout my limbs. I could practically float into his arms.
TV cameras are definitely rolling, and chatter spreads like threads of gossip across the pool and to the stands. But like the kiss with Banks from the clinic, I wish this could last longer.
Akara has to pull back. He’s smiling like me, but he hesitates a little. Almost nervous, I think. “Is that going to distract you, Sul?”
“Just the opposite.” I swig the protein shake. “It’s going to motivate me.” I’m done trying to block everything out. Done trying to forget I’m pregnant. Done trying to be the Sullivan Minnie Meadows from four years ago.
I’m a new fucking woman. I have two boyfriends who I want to kiss at the end of the race. Who I want to swim towards. The song that Banks sang to me fills my head.
Swim to me.
Swim to Banks.
Swim to Akara.
Swim to our baby.
Swim to them.
19
AKARA KITSUWON
WE ARE CALLOWAY 4EVER – Facebook Page
For fans of the Hales, Cobalts, & Meadows – we discuss the docuseries & current events following our fav families!
42m like this page
Posted 1hr ago:
BREAKING NEWS
Sullivan loses the 200m IM after a tragic goggle malfunction, but she advances to finals in 5 other events!
15.7k likes - 600 shares - 2.4k comments:
Cynthia Bird: Knew she’d kill it tonight! The goggle thing was such a fluke accident.
Talia Rey: She’s totally going to beat that Hansen girl. There’s no way Sullivan won’t take 5 golds home.
Sav Lionel: Anyone think she seemed off? Like I know Akara & Banks are hawt (I’d prob drown just seeing them) but that can’t be healthy having them RIGHT THERE while she’s swimming
Hiromi Toda: @Sav Lionel Akara kissed her, then she killed the 400m freestyle. Doubt they’re screwing up her chances
Agatha Thompson: @Sav Lionel she shouldn’t be with two men. That’s the problem. It’s disgusting.
Talia Rey: @Agatha Thompson if this was Reddit, I’d be downvoting the hell out of you.
Agatha Thompson: @Talia Rey this isn’t Reddit, it’s Facebook.
Karter P: @Sav Lionel if she doesnt get a gold this yr we know its there fault. They shouldve just stayed home
Hiromi Toda: @Karter P they’re her bodyguards they can’t stay home
Karter P: @Hiromi Toda u really believe that? SFO is super fake. There all def dating whoever they claim there protecting
Mary Westermoore: Can we PLEASE have a post-thread about Banks saving Winona Meadows from a fall? EPIC!
“What’s fucking wrong with people?” Banks grumbles hotly under his breath, sounding a little pained and a lot pissed.
Showered and shirtless, we’re both in sweatpants and sitting on the same rickety cot. Our shoulders to the wall of Sulli’s room in the Olympic Village—we’re doing a quick social media check to end our long night.
Just what I completely adore.
Reading about “SFO is fake” conspiracies and how my relationship is “disgusting” to people who have no room to judge. Break out the confetti and let it rain on Agatha. She’s so righteous. So smart.
So very stupendous.
Love her.
I scroll down through the comments and try to focus on the positives. Quietly, I tell Banks, “Same old shit, different day.”
He makes a gruff, heated noise, and I peel my attention off the Facebook page, my phone cupped in my hand.
Banks is searing holes into his own cellphone. His jaw muscle tics. Nose flares. I feel his entire body contract and flex beside me.
